


Format. Purge. Refresh.

by IWroteAFanficOnce



Category: Transistor (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-17 00:04:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3507653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWroteAFanficOnce/pseuds/IWroteAFanficOnce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With all the power the the Transistor possessed there had to be a way to save him. To save everyone and undo what had already been done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Format. Purge. Refresh.

_You doin okay Red?_

A long since disembodied voice called out to the red haired songstress. . It seemed to be echoing all around her. In fact, it was all around her. Red had journeyed into the transistor after all. It belonged to her lover and companion, the Boxer, who due to complications was the primary consciousness of the Transistor Red now wielded.

Red whipped away dirt and trails of blood from her cheek and nodded.

_…Okay_

The voice echoed back weakly, he had little faith in her gesture.

However, his doubt was not misplaced. Red looked worse for ware and far more battered than she had with of the Processes she had faced thus far. Her makeup was smudged, cheeks bruise, lip swollen and dripping with blood. Yet she still held her glow. Her unyielding aura that burned and inspired the people of Cloudbank.

“Still haven’t given up, Red?” another voice taunted. It was Royce Bracket, the last surviving member of the Camerata and potentially Red’s final opponent. He had led her here, inside the Transistor, to potentially be given a chance to ‘restore’ what the Processes had done. Cloudbank would be her canvas and the Transistor her brush, assuming she escaped that is. “I already told you,” Royce repeated for the possibly the hundredth time. “It’s either you or me. Only one of us can leave”.

Red grit her teeth, she had grown tired of hearing that again and again, Royce’s insufferable voice that droned on and on.  As if this battle weren’t already difficult enough. Though they both wielded Transistors but Royce’s experience and finesse with the device far surpassed what little Red knew about it. There were times when she seemed steps ahead of him, yet she always felt as if she was always trailing behind.

“Then I guess this is goodbye Red,” Royce said. His voice heavy with lament, as if he truly regretted what he was about to do.

Red’s heart skipped a beat as she met what could possibly be her final moments. She had come so far. Fought off an endless wave of Processes, bested the Camerata and evaded the Spine. Yet now, it all seemed for naught. If she would be defeated here and trapped in…wherever this was, then it would all have been pointless. She would never get her voice back. She would never get to return to Cloudbank. Nor would she get to see the Boxer again.

_Red…move._

Voices echoed in her mind. But it wasn’t just the Boxer’s, there were numerous others. Voices she had heard before, nearly forgotten in all of this loneliness. Voices of people who had been swept away by the Process. People who she only retained remnants of. Remnants that were, like her, locked inside the Transistor.

As Royce prepared his final blow Red could see it, everything. What functions he would activate, where he would position himself. It was all so clear now. That and along with bodies that seemed locked away in discarded bins.

In a flash Red had moved out of Royce’s path of destruction, giving herself a moment’s reprise. She had taken shelter behind one of the canisters and in it she could feel someone, someone familiar. Someone who she had absorbed and used as a function in the Transistor.

_Red, what are you doing? If he finds you its game over!_

The Boxer’s voice shouted from all around her. She didn’t need him to tell her that, but she needed another method to beat Royce as a head-to-head battle was not in her favor. As Red mulled over what she could her heart began to sink.

_Red!_

The Boxer screamed into her mind.

_What are you….oh._

His voice slowed to a crawl as he understood. While he had been worried for only her sake, Red’s thoughts were with all the people who had be deleted by the Process. The people who now lay scattered about her.

_I’m sorry…but there’s nothing we can do. It’s too late for them. Even so, you heard Royce. It’s either him or you…and we both know who I’m rooting for._

Red paused as she took a moment to cradle the Transistor she held. Even without his physical body there bond remained unbroken, if not strengthened. But still, Red thought, there had to be a way. Some way to free those who were lost. She didn’t have a chance before, when they were out there. But now they were in here so….maybe.

“Hello Red,” Royce’s voice sang with a cackle.

Then everything hit her.

Red could feel her body go limps as everything turned white around her. This was it. This was the end of it all. She had failed.

_Red….get up Red….get up._

She heard the voices. Countless of them. They were calling out to her, spurring her on for one final encore as if she were still on stage. She had been given a second chance.

Red snapped back to reality and with what energy she had dashed about, plotted her courses and then struck.

“Is that all?” Royce asked with a melancholic sigh.  He had deflected her attack with ease, as if it weren’t even directed at him. “I had expected more. Much, much more.”

Red huffed out a groan. How she wished she had her voice back. She could deal with the mindless Processes, but Royce was the kind of person whom she would have adored telling off. Yet, she continued to bite her tongue as she let out another barrage of attacks, all easily evaded by Royce once again.

_Red what are you…I see._

The Boxer sounded amazed, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening.

“How you made it this far, I’ll never know,” Royce shrugged as he hefted his Transistor over his shoulder. “But like I said, this is the end. Farwell.”

Red flinched, bracing for the impact of a blow that would never come.

“What?” Royce’s once monotone voice became a shrill shriek. The Transistor he wielded had lost its glow and with it all of its functions and power. “What’s going on? It’s not working. It should be working. Why isn’t it working?” He questioned himself again and again, but he would never understand. He couldn’t see what she saw. Hear what read could hear.

Around them, all of the crates that had once contained the essences of the people who had been erased now lay broken. To Royce it was mere collateral damage, nothing to worry about. Red however, saw the freed spirits of those people who Royce had reduced to mere functions. There was; Lillian, Niola, Wave, Preston, Shomar, Henter, Farrah, Maximilias, Bailey, Olmarq and even the other Camerata. Red thought back to something Royce, himself, had said earlier.

He had said that traces of the people erased remained trapped inside the Transistor and that if she listened close enough she could hear the ones she knew. His words held true as these were all people who Red had impacted or impacted upon her. They were he friends, colleges, fans or even rivals. They were all important to one another. While to Royce, who had become so estranged thanks to his research, most were nothing more than whispers.

“You!” Royce pointed an accusing finger at Red. “You did something. What did you do? It’s just the two of us, so it had to be you.”

As Royce’s line of questioning repeated over and over again Red could only shake her head. He had become so consumed with the Transistor and the Process that he had even lost himself. There was no point in her beating broken man.

_Yeah but….how do we get out of here now?_

The Boxer’s voice whimpered. He was already trapped inside the Transistor, he didn’t need to be trapped inside of a trap.

Red shrugged in response, it was the best answer she could give. With the functions now free she figured that would have been the end of it all. Yet, here there were. Where ever ‘here’ was anyway.

_Not gone._

She could hear everyone say.

The songstress raised a brow. They weren’t trapped anymore so sure the Transistors no longer held power. That’s what she thought until she gazed at her own. It still glowed brightly in her hand and she could still feel the Boxer and now everyone else’s thoughts radiating from it.

Not gone, she thought to herself. Just, channeled? Red looked the forgotten Transistor at Royce’s feet. She knelt to pick it up and the moment she picked it up the object instantly reactivated itself.

“What?” Royce stammered, shocked. “But it was broken. Now it’s fixed. But…” He started stammering again as he tried to make sense of what should have been impossible.

_Red, what’s going on? It’s like…there’s two of me._

Red looked between the two Transistors in her hand, to the freed bodies around her and then to the field of scattered Transistors that stretched as far as the eye could see.

If these were the brush and she the artist…Potentially, what could she do with an infinite number of Transistors? Could she not just undo what the Processes did to Cloudbank? Could she free everyone from the Transistor? Could she save…him? Prevent everything that had happened?

_Red wait…what are you doing? No Red._

The Boxer screamed into Red’s mind, but she wouldn’t listen. She had already planned to have this end another way if she couldn’t save him. But now, she had a chance. She could save him. She could save Cloudbank. Undo everything the Camerata had done.

_Don’t do this Red….please._

He continued to scream as he could feel a surge of power bubbling within him, the Transistor. It was too late. Not just the one, but the others. All of them. They all began to swell and pulse with energy. One by one light poured from the artifacts and pierced the heavens. Even Red herself became a beacon of light that blinded all present. The world continued to burn until all was consumed in light. Then there was nothing.

C: \User\Red>shutdown –r –f –m \\\Cloudbank –t -0

On start.up:

IF (Process) THEN (Purge)

IF (Civilian) THEN (Restore)

END IF

{Remove-item –force \\\Transistor.data}

C: \User\Red>Boot \\\CloundbankTwo

*  * *

Cloudbank was no longer the city it had been. Yet, it was the city it always was. Gone were the Processes and programs that shaped the world on a whim. Gone was the Spine beast that was now simply a steel and concrete tower. This Cloudbank was built with blood and sweat, hammer and nails. No one would recall the Cloudbank of yesterday, for it never was. Though without it, this Cloudbank would never be.

…Almost no one.

Everyone in Cloudbank had gathered today for the concert of an up-and-coming artist. But there would be no concert. There would be no singing. Red, a songstress beloved by and last seen on the arm of a gruff looking fellow, had disappeared a manner of days ago. Search part after search party was dispatched to find even a hair of the missing songstress. Yet nothing was ever found. Not even a sighting of the shady individual that was assumed to be her lover. With nothing but dead ends the case was deemed cold and Red along with it.

So today, on the day of her would be concert, people gathered to mourn the loss of a bright star that was snuffed out far too early. Pictures and flowers were laid upon the stage where she had stood numerous times before, as an offering of remembrance. The Camerata, leaders of Cloudbank, had even had the hall renamed to ‘Red’s Amphitheatre’ so that it may serve as an inspiring beacon for all future artist.

Eventually everyone would say their goodbyes and the hall would empty. But one soul would always remain. There was a legend, that in the midst of the night when none were present, the ghost of Red would return and like a siren lull the city to sleep.

All was quiet. All was still. Then there was humming. Lyrical humming that was soon birthed into song. The voice carried through the halls and into the night air, chilling all who heard it to the bone. Those who had heard Red even once in her lifetime all thought the melody was hers despite knowing that to be impossible. Yet, none would run or cower at the siren’s call for it was a song of warmth and love that touched them deep in their hearts.

Still that one soul remained, a grizzly looking fellow wrapped in a tattered cloak. He stroked what looked to be a gold and green blade that rested on his lap.

“Glad to see you got your voice back,” he said. “…I missed it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I want to apologize to any coders out there for the bit at the end. I don't know coding. I was never taught coding. I winged that so hard. Forgive me.


End file.
